


Terra Incognita

by riverstones



Series: Justice in the Machine [1]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: F/M, Justice League Comic-Con Trailer, Shameless Smut, the world needs more bmww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverstones/pseuds/riverstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earth Uncharted. ‘What if?’ scenario based on the Justice League Comic-Con trailer 2016. Written before the movie came out. Pointless kink, because the world needs more BMWW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terra Incognita

According to Alfred, Diana waited for him down at the basement of the Wayne manor. She had arrived a few hours prior. The butler had offered to take her to the library and the gardens, both refused. She and Bruce were on a mission, as Alfred should have been aware of. So he had taken her to the basement. A pragmatic lady and never one to waste time, she made herself useful by continuing Bruce's analyses of the maps on his computer.

Alfred's honest assessment was, she knew exactly what she was doing. Military background, like Alfred himself, without question.

He had just arrived home straight from the airport. He hadn't bathed in days. He asked his butler-cum-adoptive-father, did he have time to freshen up before meeting her?

Alfred actually wrinkled his impetuous British nose at him. He answered solemnly, “I think you should make the time, Master Bruce.”

He stank that badly, huh? He sniffed at himself. Week-old fish guts, crab guts, dead shellfish and whatever other abomination had been lying on that warehouse floor. It was amazing how the plane had let him aboard at all. Maybe the fact that he owned the airline had mattered for once.

So he showered, shaved, combed and changed his clothes post haste before hotfooting it to the manor basement where an immortal Amazon princess was waiting. She had her back towards him as he arrived where she sat in front of several monitors.

“Nice shave,” she noticed. She didn't even look at him. How could she tell? “You used too much cologne. I can smell you from here.”

He didn't think he had used that much. Just a splash. He made a mental note to completely skip cologne next time. He pulled a swivel chair and sat down beside her.

Casually, without taking her eyes away from her current diagram, Diana asked him, “He said he'll fight with us?

He wasn't sure how to answer that. “More or less.”

This time she did look at him. “More more, or more less?”

“Probably more less.”

“He said no,” she concluded for him.

“He said no,” he repeated belatedly. She returned to her diagram.

He internally laughed at himself. She knew, again. Was he that predictable? He was pretty certain he wasn't. Was it because she was old? Or was it simply because she knew him somehow?

He turned to the computer beside hers so he could continue with their work. He saw that she had already gone through ten maps. Detailed notes on terrain, elevation and points of interest, with comments about her personal hunches. Military background, Alfred had said. Right now he could observe the signs of it himself.

He had to admit, he was impressed. He wanted this woman as an ally. Heaven forbid he ever found himself on the opposite side against her in conflict.

“You’re hurt,” she said offhand.

Where did that come from? “What? No, I'm fine.”

“Not hurt hurt, I mean. Tired.”

So she really could tell, huh?

She explained, “You're sitting awkwardly and the way you hold your arms is asymmetrical. When you’ve marched in countless armies across the millennia, you tend to pick up a few things.”

Millennia? How old was she, really?

“Here, let me help.” She walked over to stand behind him. Gently at first, then progressively increasing the pressure, she skillfully massaged his shoulders. His muscles relaxed under her ministrations. She balled her hands into fists and ran her knuckles up and down his spine. Expertly. He felt the tension in his body release.

“You picked this up while marching in the army too?”

“The Fall of Byzantine.”

Holy hell. When she said millennia, she meant it literally. He definitely, absolutely wanted her as an ally and nothing less.

She circled around him, then pulled her swivel chair so she could sit at his front. She took his bad arm in both her hands and pressed where his muscles most ached. Her onyx hair hung down in rivulets to frame her face. Her brows were creased into a slight frown as she kept her eyes on his arm near the elbow, so concentrated was she in seeing to his relief.

She was perfect.

With any other woman he would have just done what he wanted without portent. Somehow with her it was different. She was different. So he found himself asking for permission.

“I'm going to kiss you.”

She started in surprise. And to his surprise, she simply said, “Alright.”

He pulled her to him and claimed her mouth. She trembled uncertainly upon their first contact. Her indecision passed quickly, and she grew more daring. She tentatively licked his lower lip before she caught it with her own two and nibbled. He could tell she was experienced. She must have done this many times, and he fought down a fleeting, unexpected surge of jealousy.

She laid her hands hands on his abdomen. Her fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he eventually got the hint. She helped him pull his shirt off. Under the light from the computer monitors, his many scars were visible. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed… fascinated? She moved out of her chair and closer to him, making a place for herself and kneeling between his legs. She pressed a cheek on the center of his chest. He couldn't keep his hands from wrapping around the back of her head. “I had a feeling you would be marked like this,” she breathed into his skin. “Signs of experience. Wear them proudly. I'm a little envious since I could never bear even one.”

So she thought of him when he wasn't around? He felt something at that, but he didn't know what. She turned her head and began tracing a large scar with her lips. Downwards. Her mouth was hot, each kiss was electrifying, sending sparks uncomfortably straight towards his nether regions. After a while, she was far too down. “No, don't go lower,” he said sharply, on the verge of panic.

By all the non-existent gods, what the hell was he doing? He pulled her up so they faced each other directly. A mistake. He found himself peeking into two bottomless, inconceivably beautiful pits that could end him forever. “Diana, I haven't had a woman in a long time. I won't be able to stop.”

He could see she was torn too. Hesitantly, she admitted, “I haven't had a man for even longer. Not in your lifetime.” Those words sealed it for him. At that moment, and if she let him, he knew he would not stop.

_“Then let me be the one to end this drought.”_

With renewed purpose, he used both hands to cup her face, once again pulling her into a deep kiss. He could never get enough of her mouth. In taste and texture, her lips kept reminding him of fresh, crisp fruit. Berries, he wasn't sure which specific kind.

He stood and pulled her up by her arms, then unceremoniously picked her up in a bridal carry. She blushed, almost imperceptibly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled a spot behind his ear.

The manor had a myriad guest rooms but neither of them would suffer the long elevator ride to the surface. In a darkened section of the basement he had a flat couch which doubled as a medical bed during emergencies. It would have to do. He apologized as he laid her upon it. “I'm sorry. You deserve the Ritz.”

“This is perfect. I've spent nights in places so much worse, there is no comparison.” Where? When? With whom? Again, the jealousy flared unbidden.

Without further ado he unclothed himself. He pulled her pants and panties off but kept her blouse on. In the shadows he could hardly see her anyway. He covered her body with his own. He tentatively slid his fingers over her folds. She was soft and smooth but he felt no moisture. He frowned at her. “You're not ready.”

Her eyes were closed. “Just go ahead. I don't mind.”

“I do.”

With his other hand he deftly grabbed her chin, then gently pushed her face away to expose her jugular. The blood pulsed boldly underneath her skin. He clamped his mouth on her neck and licked the pulse point there, earning him a heartfelt gasp. He coaxed her body with his fingers. He rubbed, ever so gently, treating her like she was virgin. How long had it been for her? She needed tenderness more than anything.

A protracted moan, the sound coming from deep in her belly. She whispered brokenly, “Gods, y— you're good.” He pressed just a little bit harder, just a little bit deeper. Another moan. “Really— good.” And there it was, the slickness he was waiting for, scantily coating the tips of his digits. He slid his middle finger in, and her hips squirmed involuntarily underneath his hand.

He pulled her blouse and bra up to expose her breast, then laved it with his tongue. He suckled her nipple, taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. He curled his finger where it was inside her and stroked. He coaxed two erogenous points at once, and he felt her body respond. He'd been with enough women to know when a movement was instinctive or faked, and Diana was definitely, absolutely, all instinct. He had expected no less, and the little head between his legs shouted painfully at him to get on with it. He forcefully stamped his desires down. Not yet. She needed more. And he needed her to beg.

“This is nothing, princess,” he teased. He trailed kisses down her chest, between her breasts, down her stomach then through her navel. He licked her belly button, causing her to gasp. He went lower. His path took him to the valley between her legs, where he still had a finger curled inside.

She tasted like her mouth, a taste he couldn't quite place. Not quite earthy, a hint of acridity, but clean. He could get used to this.

“Oh gods! Bruce!” She was shivering.

He switched to using his fingers so he could ask, “Why? You haven't had anyone do this?”

Breathless. “Not since Ancient Greece. Cursed… prudes… made it taboo in the dark ages.”

“What else was taboo?” And who did she fuck in the middle ages? He had better been dead for a hundred years, for his sake.

No reply. She was so lost in sensation she had no ability to respond to him then. It was just as well. He resumed to using his tongue, and she involuntarily thrust her hips upward to meet his mouth. He could feel the flexing of her thigh muscles, her spine bending backwards as her body sought his closeness.

Little Bruce down below was aching, screaming at him, threatening to humiliate him by coming into the air if he didn't do anything about it immediately, right the hell now. Diana spoke, her voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable. “Damn you— Take me already—!” He slid up and braced himself over her, arms at the sides of her ribcage.

He impaled her, and she howled. Like plunging into hot molten honey. He almost spent himself right then and there, but sheer force of will kept him hanging onto his tenuous control.

She was glorious.

He hooked his elbows under her knees and bent her legs up and over her torso, until her knees almost touched her shoulders. He used his forearms to lock her in the position wherein her body was obscenely open to his advances. She was strong, and he had no qualms in putting his entire weight upon her, putting his weight behind each thrust, so he could pound himself to the hilt into her scorching flesh. Her eyes were wild, her face and shoulders flushed red. Her breath caught in little hiccups exactly in time with each of his thrusts, and he knew undoubtedly he was hitting her pleasure exactly right.

Glorious.

He moved faster, leading them both into a crescendo. He could swear she grew even hotter, if it was possible. He could feel her insides trembling each time he buried himself. With a few more thrusts she finally broke, muscles shivering uncontrollably, squeezing tightly around him.

She was so fucking tight as she climaxed. Her throes lasted longer than he expected as he fought down his own release so he could prolong their contact. Her eyes momentarily met his, and he abruptly caught on that she was clenching him deliberately. He lost it. With a final push he speared into her. He gave a guttural cry as intense waves of pleasure exploded from his groin, causing his seed to spill deep inside her womb.

He disengaged her legs and braced his arms at her sides. He forced himself to continue moving even as he gradually turned flaccid, gentling her down. He kissed her mouth as they floated into the aftermath, and she twined her fingers lovingly through his hair. Hands that could smash through concrete mildly grazed upon his scalp.

She broke the kiss first, gasping for air. To his embarrassment he was still pressing his weight upon her. He was certain she didn't mind, but still he should make no excuses. He casually slid over to her side. He wrapped one arm around her waist as she turned around to lean her back against his chest.

His mind reeled. How could he have let himself do this? After this intimacy, after knowing her and how well she fit his body, there was no way he would be able to let this go easily. After each mission, after each battle, whether time away or time spent together, from now on he would always crave this. Crave her.

He must not let this happen again.

The fingers that were lazily tracing patterns on his arm stopped abruptly. Instead she pushed his arm away so she could sit up. She shakily pulled down her blouse so at least her upper body was decent. She rashly rubbed at her face with her palms. As if trying to wake herself up from a quickly fading dream.

She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Don't worry, Bruce. I don't want this to mean anything.”

Wait, what?

“We can't have this kind of thing distracting us from the bigger goals.”

Maybe they really thought along the same lines. Too much, in fact. Word for word, she had just said exactly what he would have said himself. Coming from her, he realized he _hated_ it.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back towards him so he could hold her close. His time stopped momentarily as he felt her resist for an instant, but it quickly passed and she returned to his side. Her body was warm, all soft curves to his hard planes. Strong as iron yet she could be gentle as a summer breeze. Pressed tightly against him, she felt like nothing he had felt in years, or maybe ever. She was unbelievably right.

He grit his teeth and told her, “We'll work it out.”

“Hmm?”

“We're superheroes. We'll work it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a part here that feels a little off so I might retouch it later.
> 
> I might have gone completely off-the-rails with their characters here. I know they're not really going to do this in the movie. This is why I find it so difficult to write for an unfinished extended universe. I will always prefer to stick to canon wherever possible. I don't like to dream up scenarios where I know anything I think of will just end up squashed.
> 
> Not getting continued. Better to start over after the movie comes out.


End file.
